


Fate and Fury

by Syls Darkplace (sylsdarkplace)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Prostitution, Humiliation, Knotting, Lactation, M/M, Nipple Play, Objectification, Rape/Non-con Elements, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:50:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2132631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylsdarkplace/pseuds/Syls%20Darkplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has run off to college and John is off on a hunt when Dean is drugged,  raped, and turned into an omega by two alphas. Upon returning to find his son has been turned, John finds a way to make his omega son ‘useful’ since he no longer sees him as a hunter. After years apart, Sam tracks his father and brother down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate and Fury

**Author's Note:**

> A/B/O AU, in which betas can be male or female. They are similar to non-AU humans. Alphas can mate with betas or omegas. Omegas are alphas who have been turned by alpha semen either through anal intercourse or ingestion. BTW If you’re a John lover, you’re going to hate this fic so just move along.

The entire TV screen is filled with two enormous breasts. Ordinarily Dean would find that arousing, but not today. Everything is different now. His dad is seated on the sofa, and he’s made Dean strip down and sit in the V of his legs. Dean can feel the buttons of his dad’s shirt making little round indentions in his bare back.

“You see those?” John says in Dean’s ear. His voice is husky and strained. His hard on is pressed against the small of Dean’s back. There’s just a layer of denim between them. It makes Dean feel slightly sick. “You’ll have tits just like that soon. That what you wanted?”

Tears fill Dean’s eyes, and he shakes his head. The changes have already started. His nipples have grown more sensitive and started to swell, and his hole has begun to ooze slick.

“Too late,” John growls. The powerful smell of whiskey pours from his mouth. His fingers roll and tug at Dean’s puffy nipples. “You should have thought of that before you let those alphas stick their cocks in your ass, you stupid slut.”

Dean bites his lip to keep from crying. He’s almost 22, and he’s not going to cry like a baby. It wasn’t like that, but he knows his dad is right. John’s always right. Dean let his guard down, and he’s paying the price. He shouldn’t have been so stupid as to leave his drink unattended on the bar while he went to the head. He’d known after just a couple sips that there was something wrong. He was far too woozy from just three beers. He’d headed back to the motel, but he barely made it through the door before he was unconscious.

 

###

  
It was the pain that had brought him around. He was on his back on the bed. Gordon, one of the guys from the bar that he’d hustled at pool was holding his legs up and apart. He grinned down at Dean as he pounded into this ass.

“Good morning, bitch,” Gordon said. “How’s it feel to get screwed?”

It felt like there was a pile driver in his ass. He was being torn apart, and he tried to pull away. His arms flailed in an attempt to fight back. If he could stop Gordon before he came, he might be okay, but all Dean could manage to do was wriggle and slap weakly at the two alphas. The other guy, Kubrick, grabbed Dean’s wrists and laughed.

“Now, none of that,” he said. “I haven’t had my go yet, and we’re going to have such fun, the three of us.”

“That’s right,” Gordon said. “You’re going to make such a pretty bitch.” Dean could feel the knot swelling with each thrust, and he tried futilely again to push them away. The knot caught on the rim of his hole and lodged securely inside him. It was too late. Suddenly, Gordon’s grin turned to a grimace as he rutted into Dean’s ass. He grunted, and Dean felt his channel slicked with the man’s come.

Dean went limp on the mattress. It was over. His life as he’d known it had ended. Everything he’d been or hoped to be – hunter, alpha, son, husband maybe, father – was gone. Gordon met Dean’s horrified gaze with a smirk. “Don’t worry, bitch, we’ll let you keep your pool winnings.”

Gordon’s come was hot and disturbingly soothing as it pushed deeper into him. Dean was overcome with passivity. The pain in his hole began to subside and was nearly gone by the time Gordon’s knot shrank and he withdrew his cock from Dean’s body. Kubrick immediately took Gordon’s place, thrusting fast and hard into him. He reached down and jerked on Dean’s soft cock.

“You’ll start to enjoy it soon,” the man grunted. “Trust me. You ain’t the first bitch I made.”

Dean just turned his face away. Gordon chuckled. “Aw, gonna be a shy little slut?”

The two alphas knotted him repeatedly throughout the night, and Dean’s hole grew slick and less painful. By the time the sun was coming up, Gordon’s knot rocking inside him felt amazing. Dean’s hole clenched around it, milking the come from it, and Dean’s cock was hard against the stained mattress where he lay on his stomach. The head of Kubrick’s cock filled his mouth, and he suckled it with soft, weak movements of his tongue and lips.

Kubrick pushed deeper into Dean’s mouth and his cock twitched before filling Dean’s mouth with come. His eyes fluttered open and Kubrick’s hand was gripping his own knot, pumping his seed into Dean’s throat. Dean swallowed greedily. A part of him observed his own actions with horror. He saw what he was becoming and recognized his body’s need for alpha come as though he was addicted to a drug. Every drop that entered him took him further from who he’d been. It made him feel better than anything ever had – beer or whiskey or pot or sex. He felt elated, relaxed, without worry or fear or anxiety, his body was flushed with pleasure. He was riding a high spiraling upward as the buzz of tension pushed him higher and snapped …his body convulsed as his climax shook through him. He shot his load and felt the hot, wet release against his belly before it soaked into the bedding. His hole clenched around Gordon’s knot, and the man collapsed on top of Dean.

“There you go,” Kubrick said. He slapped Dean’s cheek with his softening cock. “Like it now, don’t you, bitch?” He ran his fingers through Dean’s sweaty hair. “All done. No turning back.” He sounded so self-satisfied that Dean wanted to weep.

Gordon blanketed Dean’s back trapping him in the pool of his own spunk and pressing the air from his lungs. “Fuck,” Gordon moaned. “Slutty cunt’s worn me out.”

“We should take him with,” Kubrick said.

“Nah,” Gordon replied. His breath was hot against Dean’s cheek. “He’s going to go into heat in no time, and the last thing we need is a pregnant bitch.” He sat up and slapped Dean on the ass before pulling his deflating knot from Dean’s hole. It pulled free with little resistance and a wet pop. Gordon spread Dean’s ass cheeks with his thumbs. “Holy fuck, look at that – all red and swollen and wet. There’s nothing much hotter than a fucked out bitch hole.”

Kubrick wiped a trickle of come from Dean’s lip with his thumb and pushed it into Dean’s mouth. “I don’t know,” he said. “That mouth was made to be fucked.”

“Yeah,” Gordon agreed, “some alphas are born to be turned, and this bitch should have been turned a long time ago.”

Dean didn’t move as the two alphas had crawled off the bed and begun to put their clothes on.

“I’d like to take a shower, but his old man is due back by lunch,” Gordon said. “Don’t particularly want to run into him when he finds his boy’s been turned.”

“What do you think he’ll do?” Kubrick said.

“I think he’ll take one look at him and walk back out the door. What would you do if you were his big, bad alpha father?”

Dean closed his eyes and floated on the haze of endorphins and whatever chemicals were in the alpha come that made him feel lazy and satiated. The rustle of clothing and thump of boots and the alphas’ voices were like the rustle of leaves or surf on rocks.

“Yeah, I’d say that ain’t no kid of mine.”

“Damned straight.”

“But I ain’t …”

Dean heard the door close behind them, and he curled into a ball. He’d barely moved when the door opened again two hours later. He was sweating and chilled and his guts cramped from the changes taking place inside him. He remembered diagrams from some PBS show late one night. He knew that organs were shifting to accommodate a growing womb that had lain dormant inside him. It was swelling and connecting to his transformed hole. The omega reproductive system was unique in that when aroused and penetrated, the intestinal system automatically blocked off inside the channel, so the alpha’s cock and semen were directed into the reproductive canal. When not having sex, the intestinal system allowed waste to pass from the body without entering the internal vaginal opening.

An especially painful cramp gripped him, and cold sweat broke out across his back. He groaned.

He didn’t open his eyes as footsteps approached the bed. “Jesus Christ,” John said. “Knew you’d give it up for a knot someday.”

 

###

  
Dean is brought back to the present by twin spikes of pain as his dad pinches his nipples. The omega on the TV lifts his breasts and kneads them.

“You don’t have an ass anymore. You’ve got a bitch hole. A cunt. You could have been a great hunter, as good as me, hell, better maybe, and now …” John shifts. His cock feels huge, like a steel pipe poking against Dean’s back. “That –“ he directs Dean’s focus back to the TV. The omega’s areolas are dark brown and cover a most of the curve of his breast. The nipples are long and thick. They remind Dean of the erasers on the pencils that Sam used in first grade. He remembers that he used to jerk off to porn like this; now it makes him kind of sick.

“That is what you are. Look at those.” He rolls and tugs on Dean’s nipples. They’re getting sore. “Yours are already like a 12-year-old girl, and that’s what you’re becoming. You like it, don’t you? I can smell you. All wet and ready to take a cock. You’re going into heat.”

The camera pulls back and shows the curve of the omega’s baby bump. His back is swayed from the weight. He lifts his pendulous breasts and squeezes them high up, letting his fingers slide forward till a spray of milk issues from each nipple.

“That’s what you’ve done to yourself,” John says, and Dean can hear the disgust in his father’s voice. “Good for nothing but knotting and breeding.”

John rolls his hips. “Hell, you boys have turned out to be nothing but a disappointment what with Sam running away to be a shyster attorney and now you … I had all my hopes set on you. Fucking knotslut.” John is steadily humping Dean’s back while pinching Dean’s nipples without mercy, and Dean is glad he put a towel over the sofa because his hole is twitching and leaking slick like a sluice.

 

###

  
“Jesus fuck, your cunt is tight,” John says. His fingers are digging into Dean’s hips, and he grunts as he shoves farther in. It hurts, and Dean wants more.

He’s on his knees with his cheek pressed into the mattress. This is his dad fucking him. Somehow that sinks in through the desperate haze of his heat. His hole is sloppy wet, engorged and swollen, almost throbbing with need, twitching with arousal. He bites his lip so he doesn’t beg, _Hurry, fuck me, knot me_ , _please, Dad, I need it_. He isn’t that far gone, not yet.

John pulls out and then grips Dean tighter as he begins to pound into him. It hurts and soothes and winds Dean up even higher. He gets his hands under him and begins to twist and tug at his own nipples until he’s gasping. By the time he begins to feel the knot swelling on his father’s cock, he’s nearing something frightening and powerful, pain and pleasure and tension so acute, he thinks he may fly apart.

The knot catches, rocks inside him, and Dean almost blacks out with overwhelming sensation, a feral purpose as his cunt clenches again and again around the knot, milking his father’s cock. His insides are bathed with hot come. He can feel it moving into him as his channel pulsates and draws it deeper. It feels so good, so right. His body shakes with pleasure.

John slaps him on the ass and stills inside him. The knot caught tight in his hole. “Never imagined that breeding my son could be so satisfying,” he says. “But then you aren’t  my son. You’re my bitch. You’re going to be such a good bitch, a good whore.”

John collapses over Dean’s back and chuckles. “A sturdy bitch, that’s for sure.” He tips them onto their sides, and his knot tugs at Dean’s hole, which tightens to hold it secure inside him. “Cunt like a vice,” he says. “You are going to make one hell of a breeder, but don’t worry, we won’t be dragging a herd of kids around with us. Pretty babies like you’ll have always fetch a good price.”

John nuzzles Dean’s neck. “Yeah, you still have a purpose in this family. Always were obedient. Even more so now. Couldn’t say no to me even if you wanted to, and you don’t,” he scoffs.

 

###

  
The guy is propped up against the headboard of one of the two queen beds in the room. Jim or Bob or something. Dean straddles his lap and bounces up and down on his cock. His back is to the guy, so he’s on display to the other four men, including his father who is slouched in one of the chairs at the rickety table. There’s a bottle of whiskey in one of his hands and his cock, where it sticks out of his open fly, in the other.

Dean has one arm stretched behind him, and his hand grips the headboard for balance and added push. He’s thankful for all the training miles he ran when he was younger because he needs the strength and endurance to take on all the men his dad brings to him to service. John hasn’t had to hustle pool or steal a credit card in months.

Dean focuses on the ceiling so he doesn’t have to see the men watching him or look down at his milk heavy breasts or big rounded belly. Still, he feels his breasts bouncing with his movements. They ache all the time. He isn’t sure whether it’s the hormones and milk or whether it’s the rough attention they get from his customers.

“Fuckers are huge,” someone says.

John chuckles. “Bitch produces milk like a Guernsey cow.”

It’s true that no matter how many men nurse him, there’s always more milk. Maybe that’s why, he thinks. Maybe they increase his milk flow.

The mattress shifts as two more men join him and Jim Bob on the bed. One man, Bill maybe, strokes Dean’s belly and lifts a breast, kneads it.

“Jesus, look at that,” he says.

“I know, right?” the other guy, Clay, says. “Live porn.”

Dean’s breasts draw attention everywhere he goes. Pregnant and nursing omegas rarely go out I public. He felt like a freak. At first, he’d tried to strap them down or wear sports bras, but his dad slapped him and threw the bras away. He said it inhibited milk production. So, Dean wears loose clothes, but even then people notice. They see the wet stains on his shirts and his clothes can’t hide the swell and bounce of them completely. He constantly gets looks of scorn and disapproval as well as leers and gropes from strangers.

Jim sucks on the nipple as he continues kneading Dean’s left breast, and Dean feels the tingle and warmth as the milk draws down. Clay follows suit. Dean moans. It feels amazing. Both of them nursing on his tits as Jim Bob knots his cunt. Dean’s insides are flooded with come, hot and satisfying.

“Fucking whore,” John says.

Dean’s eyelids are heavy as he looks up at his dad who grunts and shoots a load into a fast food napkin. John hasn’t fucked him since knocked him up. Dean realized almost immediately that his father had done it ruin him for a potential mate. No one else would want him now, not as a mate, just as a cunt to knot. This was his purpose now – a breeder, a whore, a cow.

Thank God, Sammy didn’t know what he’d become. He couldn’t blame his dad. Not really. He had done this to himself. He’d allowed himself to be duped and turned into an omega. Dean was just glad his little brother had escaped the life, this horrific trajectory that their dad had set them on.

It was strange that it wasn’t until he’d been turned into an omega that he understood the folly and danger of their father’s vendetta. Too late.

 

###

  
Dean barely remembers the birth of that first baby – the one he had with his father. It was a haze of pain and fear. He remembers the garish gold, lime green and aqua wallpaper of the motel room and sucking his dad’s cock again and again.

The first time John had crawled onto the bed and pushed the slick head of his cock against Dean’s lips, Dean had turned his head and pushed weakly against his dad. John had slapped his hand away.

“Don’t be a stupid bitch. This’ll help the pain.”

Dean knew it was probably true, but he was in agony and angry at his father for doing this to him. “No,” he’d said.

“Don’t you say ‘no’ to me,” John ordered. “Don’t have the brains to do what’s good for you.” He grabbed Dean’s jaw and pressed his thumb into the hinge until the pain made Dean open his mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ, being an omega’s made you stupid.”

He pushed the head of his cock into Dean’s mouth and started jacking himself. Dean glared up at his father, but began to suckle the head while John stroked the shaft. Dean was ready when the knot swelled in John’s hand, and when the first pulse of come hit his tongue, he sucked and swallowed like a man finding water in the desert.

“Fucking comeslut,” John groaned as he pumped the knot. Gush after gush of come filled Dean’s mouth, he swallowed and swallowed, and the pain began to ebb away. Dean felt sleepy and relaxed until the pain returned later. He asked for more come the next time. He begged again and again. Those memories were disjointed and dreamlike.

What he remembers with some clarity is awakening with the baby suckling his breast. Its tiny pink lips, so like Sammy’s, tugging at the nipple. It smelled sweet and perfect.

“It’s a boy,” his father said from a nearby chair.

“A boy,” Dean repeated. So it might be an alpha or beta. There was no way to guess until it was older and grew bigger than average and began to show signs of heightened dominance and aggression – or didn’t. I might be perfectly average, normal, well-balanced and responsible. There was no way to know for sure unless it popped a knot at puberty. Scientists speculated as to why alphas and omegas evolved as they had. They’d found no genetic marker for it, and many still argued over when and how the anomaly manifested itself.

Dean worried that the amount of alpha come he’d ingested during pregnancy could influence the personality of his son. Dean wondered if his son would be more likely to be a beta or an alpha who allowed himself to be turned. Did the baby crave the alpha chemicals that had flowed through Dean’s system? Would his son grow up wanting to be knotted because of the alpha come Dean had taken in throughout his pregnancy?

He’d never know the answers because after three weeks, Dean woke up alone. “Dad! Dad!”

John came into the bedroom. He looked good – sober and healthy.

“Where’s … where’s my baby?” Dean asked in the most assertive voice he’d used in months.

“Don’t you worry.” John smiled, and Dean felt his blood run cold. “He’s with a nice family.”

Dean knew that John wasn’t going to keep the baby, but he didn’t imagine it would be so soon or that he wouldn’t know ahead of time when it would be taken. “But … what? Why?”

“Couldn’t be raised by a slut like you, could it?”

Dean didn’t have words to express the betrayal he felt. He just shook his head. John left him there, curled in a ball, inhaling the fading scent of the infant. He slipped in and out of sleep. Sometimes he dreamed of the baby and sometimes of Sammy. He dreamed of blue eyes and hazel, a baby’s cry and boy’s laughter. He’d awaken with tears in on his cheeks and willed himself to sleep again.

The light went on and the covers were yanked from the bed. “Get up and take a shower. You’ve got customers,” John said. “Don’t bother getting dressed. You’ve got ten minutes.”

Dean dragged himself into the bathroom and under the hot spray of the shower. His breasts were so full, they were almost too painful to touch. He dreaded the idea of alphas groping them, but he knew better than to defy his father.

After the shower, he dried off and brushed his teeth. There was no need to shave anymore. Like many omegas, he his facial hair had grown finer. He avoided looking at his body in the mirror – his large, heavy breasts and dark nipples and slightly rounded belly. His hair had grown too long, longer than Sammy’s, but John wouldn’t let him cut it shorter. Sometimes he caught sight of himself in a mirror and didn’t recognize the reflection, but the freckled cheeks were familiar and the mouth. His gaze skittered away from the haunted green eyes.

Dean took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. There were two men in addition to his father in the main motel room. One was seated at the table with John. They each held a hand of cards, and there were beer bottles and whiskey at their elbows. The third man was sitting on the ratty sofa with his fly open stroking his dick.

“That’s one big omega,” the guy playing cards with John said. “But pretty.”

“And fertile,” John commented. “Just got rid of the brat this this morning.”

“Getting him right back on that horse, huh?”

“Yeah,” John replied. “I’ll see you ten. This is Jed, bitch, and that’s Carl. Take care of him.”

Dean walked to the man on the couch. He knew what his job is and how to do it by now. Carl leaned forward and took Dean by the wrist to pull him closer. They guy was in his 60s probably, thin graying hair, watery blue eyes. Something about him gave Dean the creeps, so Dean concentrated on the man’s long, thick, uncut cock. He felt his heart speed up in anticipation. He hadn’t had a load in three weeks, and he was okay until today. But now, he needed it. He needed the rush of arousal and the mindless pleasure of it.

He turned his back to Carl who grabbed Dean’s hips and helped lower him toward his lap. Dean got his feet up on the sofa and knelt on each side of Carl’s legs. The slick head of Carl’s cock bumped Dean’s nuts and slipped over his perineum before reaching his cunt. Dean sank down on the thick cock with a sigh.

“Holy shit,” Carl said. “When’d you say he had a baby?”

John grins. “Tight?”

“Like a glove, man,” Carl groaned. “Hot, wet …”

Dean began to bounce up and down on Carl’s dick. Creepy or not, the man had a great dick. It curved just right, filled him perfectly, but Dean was having hard time enjoying it because his tits ached something awful with each bounce.

“Check it out, man,” Jed said gleefully. “Drippy nippies.”

John chuckled. “Yeah.” He put his cards face down on the table and crossed the room. He grasped Dean’s left breast and squeezed. Milk sprayed from the nipple, and Dean let out a small hurt noise. “Missing the brat, huh?”

There was a knock at the door, and John went to open it. A tall, skinny kid came in carrying some kind of contraption with hoses and a cord.

“Got what you need right here, Mr. Winchester,” the kid said as he eyed Dean riding Carl’s dick.

“Here you go, bitch,” John says. “Garth and I were discussing your dilemma earlier.”

Dean’s eyes were wide and wary. Whatever that thing was, he was sure it wasn’t a good thing for him.

Garth set the small electric motor on the couch beside Carl, plugged it into the wall outlet, and hooked the clear tubing to it. The tube ran to a glass jar and two more hoses with clear acrylic cylinders on the end hung from the lid of the jar. Garth turned the motor on and it made a whirring, cyclical thump like a respirator.

“No!” Dean said when he realized that it was a pump. He had the urge to get away, but he couldn’t move. Not only had Carl knotted him, but he’d looped his arms through Dean’s, trapping them behind his back. Dean’s chest was thrust forward, tits hanging free. Garth had a cylinder in each hand, and Dean watched them as though they were snakes as they move toward him. The first one latched onto Dean’s right nipple, and tears sprang to his eyes. The pain was knife-like. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.

“Holy shit, look at that!” Garth said. Garth’s free hand scrambled at his fly and pressed down. Dean felt Carl lean forward to look over his shoulder.

“Damn,” Carl said.

John and Jeb approached for a closer look, and Dean couldn’t help but look too. His nipple was being pulled and stretched at least two inches into the cylinder with each cycle of the pump. Milk was running from it down the tube and into the jar. There was a fine spray of milk shooting from the other nipple in sympathy. Garth hurried to get the other cylinder on it. With that, Dean made a sobbing sound and squeezed his eyes shut.

John slapped Dean’s breast hard enough to make it bounce against the other. “You’d never know the little bitch was tough when he was an alpha.”

Dean heard his father’s zipper and smelled his musk before the head of his cock pressed against Dean’s lips. “Open up,” John ordered. “Let daddy make it all better.”

The other men laughed as John’s cock slid into Dean’s mouth. He had no opportunity to suck John off, his father just grabbed his head and began thrusting into his throat. By the time John milked the last of his release into Dean’s mouth, the pressure had eased in Dean’s breasts and he was leaning back into Carl’s embrace. His cunt was clutching Carl’s knot, and Dean’s belly was glazed with his own come.

The whirring of the pump stopped, and Garth removed the cylinders. “Holy shit,” he murmured. “Look at ‘em.” He flicked one of Dean’s nipples with his fingernail, and Dean flinched at the sharp sensation. Dean followed the kid’s gaze. His always prominent nipples were even more erect than usual. They stood out a good inch from the surrounding areola.

John chuckled. “Almost gives me wood all over again.”

“No shit,” Jeb agreed.

“Any way we can get ‘em to stay like that?” John asked.

“Just keep pumping ‘em every day for awhile,” Garth replied. “Make you a deal on the pump.”

John grinned. “Tell you what – fair trade, give me the pump and let you knot the bitch no charge whenever we’re in town.”

“Deal,” Garth grinned. He leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He made a pleased humming sound in his throat. Dean’s cunt clenched around Carl’s knot, and more hot release shot into him. He let his head drop back against Carl’s shoulder. Garth quietly nursed on Dean’s tit a few moments while John and Jeb went back to their card game. Garth pulled off the teat.

“God, that’s so good,” he said. “You have to taste it.” He unscrewed the lid from the jar of milk that he’d pumped. He held it to Dean’s lax lips and tipped some milk onto his tongue. It was creamy and warm and sweet. It coated Dean’s tongue and trickled from the corner of his mouth. He felt a disturbing disconnect. That was his baby’s milk. His baby could be starving. No. His baby was with good people.

Dean saw his father staring at him.

“Nothing like a fucked out bitch whore,” Jeb said.

John just nodded and looked back at his cards.

 

###

  
Dean’s life has taken on a routine that is both disturbing and mundane – heat, pregnant, wash, repeat. He’s carrying the fifth baby in as many years. He has no idea who the father is. Just like the last three. It could Pastor Jim or Uncle Bobby or a complete stranger. He was in heat a week the last time and can’t remember who knotted him toward the end. Doesn’t matter, he figures. It’s not his dad. John may jack off watching other men knot his son or he may make Dean deep throat him on occasion, but he’s never used his cunt.

“I don’t knot whores,” he’d once commented.

 

Dean stands naked in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He’s no longer disgusted or ashamed of his body. He is what he is. It wasn’t his choice, but there’s no point in fighting it.

He lifts his breasts in his hands as thought testing their weight. They aren’t like those of the omega in the porn that his dad forced him to watch so long ago. They’re round and surprisingly firm, not pendulous, and his nipples are high and pointed. The areolas are rosy and the size of silver dollars. It’s the nubs that make so many alphas crazy. They aren’t thick, but they’re long. John had tied him up and used the pump on him off and on for months. It had been torture, but now … there seems to be a direct circuit between his tits and his cunt.

He grasps them between his thumbs and index fingers and pulls them outward. A bead of milk appears on each. His hole twitches and slick oozes over his balls and down his thigh. He is a slut, he thinks. His body is incredibly responsive. It hardly matters who the alpha is or what he looks like. He has a knot, and that’s all Dean’s body cares about. It overrides his head every time. He’s become the whore his father predicted he’d be, the one John created.

He releases his nipples and caresses the curve of his belly. It hasn’t been truly flat since that first time that Dad knocked him up. He never has time to recover before he goes into heat and begins to swell again. John doesn’t allow him to nurse the baby more than three or four weeks before he finds a family to sell it too. Dean doesn’t mind. He’s never become attached to them.

The first was the result of his dad knotting him during his initial heat. For three days, John knotted him repeatedly while heaping abuse on him. For the next nine months, Dean had learned that his father intended to use him as a whore, renting him out to men every night while he drank whiskey and watched and jerked off. Dean’s only respite were those few weeks after the babies were born while he nursed and before John sold them. He was just thankful that his father wouldn’t be raising any of them.

They don’t travel anymore. At some point, John’s drinking and the steady income Dean brought in made his dad forget his obsession with finding Mary’s killer. They have a decrepit farm house on a well-traveled blacktop road not far off the interstate. Word has gotten around and there’s a steady stream of alphas – hunters, business men, college boys, bored husbands – dropping by for what John offers them.

Dean’s gaze travels downward in the mirror to where his cock hangs half hard between his legs. His balls had shrunk slightly after he was turned, but his dick is large, impressive for an omega. Most are turned as teens when their bodies were less resistant to change. Dean grasps his cock and strokes it. If anything, this makes him saddest. It reminds him of what he had been and what he could have been. Now it is a mockery. No one would ever let him fuck them. Occasionally a john would suck on it, but it was just a tease and joke. It was humiliating.

“Bitch!” John’s voice rang through the house.

Dean cringes and takes a step toward the bathroom door. All thoughts of his body and his life disappear. An alpha demands his attention. Probably more than one. Time for work.

 

###

  
Dean had tried to run away once. It was a couple months into his first pregnancy. His father had started selling him slowly. Dean hadn’t even realized that’s what he was doing the first couple of times. He’d just bring some guy to their room, get Dean a little drunk on whiskey, enough to make him compliant, and the next thing Dean knew he’d have some stranger’s knot in his cunt.

The third time, he saw the exchange of money and heard the guy leave. “You know, you could make a fortune on a bitch like that in the city,” the guy had said as he left.

John had slapped the cash against the palm of his hand and given Dean a long look. The customers had increased after that. Dean felt himself dying a little every day, and he feared for the child he carried. Despite it being his father’s kid, he still had some protective feeling toward it. He knew if he didn’t get out soon, he never would. He figured if Sammy could get away, he could too.

He’d been wrong. John found him in no time, shoved him into the Impala, and driven to the nearest city where he found the seediest motel Dean had ever seen – that was saying something.

John got them a room and let Dean in before hitting him hard enough to knock him down. His dad dragged him to his feet and shoved him down on the bed. “I guess you were an alpha a little too long to understand what it means to be an omega,” John said as he tied Dean’s hands behind his back. “So, it’s time for you to learn your place.”

John had left him there on the dingy bedspread that smelled of mildew and stale cigarette smoke and sex. A half-hour later, the first alpha entered. He was followed by a steady stream of them – alone, in pairs and in groups, skinny teenagers and pot-bellied old men, Asian businessmen and gangbangers, lone hunters and bunches of frat boys. They fucked his face and knotted his cunt until his throat ached and his hole was too sloppy and fucked out to hold a knot.

Finally, it stopped. Dean lay on the sticky sheets. At some point, his hands had been untied, but he was too weak move. He heard the door open and close, and he was too dead inside to weep.

“Learned your lesson?” John asked.

He kept his eyes averted when he answered in a raspy voice. “Yes, sir.”

So, Dean isn’t trying to run away as he walks alone down Main Street. There isn’t much in the small town – an IGA grocery store, an Ace hardware, a pharmacy, a café – but this is where they come for supplies every couple of weeks. John has gone into the hardware store for some fuses, and he lets Dean wander the streets because he knows that no one will talk to the omega whore let alone help him escape.

Dean doesn’t walk toward the park because there might be kids at the playground, and the police warned him away from it once before as though just seeing him would be a bad influence on kids. Instead, he walks along the railroad tracks where they run between the street and abandoned warehouses. The day is only marginally warm, but the sun feels good on his face.

He hears a vehicle coming up behind him and it slows as it pulls alongside. He doesn’t turn his head, but he knows from the sound that it isn’t the Impala. He hunches his shoulders hoping that his loose, layered clothing hide his body.

“Dean!” someone shouts from the vehicle. The voice is oddly familiar. He tries to place it. “Dean! Hey!”

Sammy. It’s Sam. Dean reacts without thinking, turning his head and looking into the cab of the blue pick up truck. It is Sam – different but so familiar – same messy hair and fox-tilted eyes.

“Get in!” Sam shouts. He glances down the street behind the truck.

Dean stands there horrified and silent.

“Get in, Dean,” Sam says. It’s a command, and Dean finds himself reaching for the handle of the truck door and swinging it open. He slides into the passenger seat and closes the door. The truck starts rolling again, and Sam glances into the rearview mirror. Sam makes a right at the next corner, a left onto the main road toward the interstate, and speeds up.

“I shouldn’t …” Dean starts to say. “You should take me back. He’s going to be mad.”

“Of course he is,” Sam says. “You’re his meal ticket.”

Dean feels sick. Sam knows. Dean bites his lip. What’s he supposed to say to his little brother? Sam reaches over and squeezes Dean’s knee.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m your alpha now, and I’m going to take care of you.”

“Sam … you don’t …”

“I do,” Sam says. He sighs and looks over at Dean. “I remember when Dad caught you kissing Drew Smith when you were a freshman. He said, you’d end up getting yourself knotted one day.”

“That’s not how it happened,” Dean says.

“No, maybe not,” Sam replies. “I’m just saying that it’s what Dad expected. Hell, he probably set you up.”

Dean’s heart seems to skip a beat. It had never occurred to him that his father had anything to do with Gordon and Kubrick’s actions that night, but they were hunters. They knew of his dad, so maybe they actually knew him. Surely, this isn’t what John had wanted. He was so disgusted by Dean’s turning. He’d made that clear.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head.

Sam shrugs. “No, probably not, but he wasn’t surprised, was he? He thought you chose to do it.”

Dean doesn’t answer.

“I know you didn’t choose it,” Sam says. “You were so tough and strong. You loved girls. Loved fucking them and … I remember the time I caught you and Angie Moss on the sofa. What were you, fifteen?” Sam shakes his head with a grin. “Still, after Dad said that about you getting knotted, I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

Dean looks at his brother in surprise. This isn’t the Sam he remembers. “What?”

“Yeah,” Sam admits. His cheeks are flushed. “I couldn’t get the thought of you like this out of my head, of us …” Sam licks his lips and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

The smell of alpha is strong in the enclosed cab of the truck, and it’s too warm. Dean rolls his window down a little.

“Sorry, the A/C is broken,” Sam says. “Take your jacket off.”

Dean hesitates. He knows where this will go. He feels the inevitability of it. It was clear that Sam does too. He said as much when he said he was Dean’s alpha.

“Take your jacket off, Dean,” Sam says.

Dean does because, well …Sam said … it is hot in the truck. Dean leans forward to peel his jacket from his overheated body. Sam’s gaze is on Dean’s chest when he leans back.

“Jesus,” Sam says.

Dean feels the blush rise in his cheeks as Sam reaches over and cups his left breast. Sam’s eyes are on the road, but his attention is on Dean. He kneads the breast, and his thumb rubs over the prominent nipple until Dean’s shirt is wet with milk.

“You’re not pregnant,” Sam says.

“No, it’s been a month,” Dean replies. His voice is breathy as Sam rolls the nipple between his fingers. “Dad just got rid of the baby but I, I always have milk.”

“Yeah? How long?”

“Fi, five years,” Dean gasps. His heat is coming on faster and stronger than he’s ever experienced before. He’s burning up and he needs. “Just a few months after you left. Dad, oh,” he says as Sam tugs at the nipple, “Dad knotted me, and I got pregnant, and then he, he …” Dean realizes he’s saying things he doesn’t want to say and bites his lip.

“He sold you,” Sam says. His voice is dark with arousal and violence as though he wants to knot his brother and kill his father in equal measure. “He’s a fool. You’re so beautiful.”

Dean’s head drops back against the seat and he writhes with need. “Sam,” he gasps. “Please.”

“Yeah,” Sam says. He puts both hands back on the wheel. “I got a place, Dean, we’re almost there.”

“He never calls me Dean, not in years.”

“Sh,” Sam says. He reaches over and swipes the tear from Dean’s cheek.

Sam speeds down the interstate for 80 miles or so and takes an exit with nothing on it but an abandoned gas station. He winds down a series of two-lane rural roads that get narrower and rougher as they go. Finally, he turns the truck onto a rutted dirt lane with tall weeds growing alongside. It’s full dusk when he stops the truck in a stand of oak trees and overgrown lilac bushes beside a ramshackle house.

“It’s better on the inside,” Sam says.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Dean says as he eyes the porch. The roof hangs loosely at one end and the steps have completely collapsed.

They get out of the truck and Sam leaps onto the porch. He reaches down and takes Dean’s hand to pull him up. Dean staggers against Sam and can’t let go. Sam’s so much taller than the kid who ran off to college. Dean’s tall, but Sam seems to tower over him. Dean rubs against his brother, presses his face into the curve of Sam’s neck and inhales deeply. The smell of alpha winds his heat up a little higher, but the scent of Sam is hundreds of nights in the same bed and days in the Impala with his little brother.

Sam hooks an arm around him and practically drags him into the house. Dean has only a passing impression of yellowed linoleum and cracked plaster on the way to the bedroom. Sam lights a candle on the bureau. The room is blue. That’s all Dean notices before Sam pulls him against his chest and kisses him. The kiss is desperate, ferocious, and Sam’s hands are huge and strong and hold Dean with such firm tenderness. Dean can’t remember the last time he was kissed, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been kissed like this. He’d remember that.

“Sam, Sammy,” he gasps against his brother’s lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says and lets him go.

Dean turns toward the bed, strips off his shirt and kicks off his shoes.

“On the bed,” Sam says.

Dean shoves his pants down and crawls onto the bed on all fours.

“No, not like that,” Sam says.

Dean looks over his shoulder at his brother, and holy shit, Sam is not just tall, he’s huge all over – a cock any alpha would be proud of and big, heavy balls beneath. Sam gets on the bed and leans against the headboard. His cock sticks up proudly from a thatch of hair. Dean’s stomach drops. So many alphas like it this way. Dean hates that he knows that. He turns his back to Sam and starts to straddle his legs.

“No, Dean, face me,” Sam says. “I want to see you.” He pulls Dean close as Dean throws a leg over his lap. “Kiss you.” He pulls Dean in for another fierce kiss that becomes deep and sweet as Dean sinks down on his cock.

Sam gasps and his head thumps against the headboard. “Jesus,” he says. “Wanted this so long.” His big hands grip Dean’s hips and help lift him. Sam’s hips roll then, pushing his cock up into Dean’s fevered channel. Sam’s eyes fall shut as he thrusts fast and hard into Dean. This is the first time that Dean has wanted someone when he was in heat. Sure, he’s wanted the knot, but never the person. He feels elated and a little frightened by how strong his need is and how much faith and trust he’s putting in Sam.

But this is Sam, his Sammy, who’s going to knot him, knock him up. Dean is covered in a sheen of sweat and his skin tingles. His cunt is so engorged, so needy that it throbs with the beat of his heart. Sam’s cock fills him, almost satisfies the need, almost … then the knot is swelling, catching inside him. There’s a flood of soothing wet heat flowing into him. He’s held secure against Sam’s lap.

Dean moans and shakes through his orgasm. His come paints Sam’s golden skin. He opens his eyes and sees Sam watching him with a kind of reverence.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Sam says.

If Dean weren’t already flushed with heat, he’d probably blush. He glances away. “And you’ve … really grown up,” he says. “All big and strong.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to destroy everyone who’s ever hurt you,” Sam says.

For a moment, Dean thinks Sam is joking, but his expression says otherwise. “Sam?”

“You’re always going to be beautiful,” Sam says. His hands are firm on Dean’s hips as his knot twitches and more come pulses deep inside Dean. “You’re going to have dozens of babies. We’re going to breed an army, and we’ll leave a path of destruction in our wake.”

Sam’s eyes seem to flash black in the candlelight before Sam pulls Dean against his chest and kisses his temple. “No one will ever hurt you again, Dean.”

 

-30-


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